Page 38 of Lemon Cake
Rider had to pause and check that the fear in her voice wasn’t something he’d imagined. “Only if you’d like me too.”
“I’ve never had anyone sleep over.”
Rider kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch while Gemma retreated to the kitchen. Only when his gaze fell on her wheelchair did it dawn on him why she may feel uncomfortable.
She returned with a bowl filled with chips and he let her set it on the coffee table before taking her hand and pulling her closer, situating her between his spread legs. Looking up at her, he ran his thumbs over her knuckles.
“If you feel uncomfortable with me sleeping over, I’ll leave when you’re ready. I meant it when I said we will take our time.”
Gemma’s face remained stoic, making it hard for Rider to read her emotions. It was a few long moments before she slowly nodded. “Okay.” She pulled her hands out of his and stepped back. “Let me grab some blankets and I’ll change.”
“I’ll be right here waiting.”
Gemma disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. It didn’t feel right, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made her uncomfortable somehow. Ten minutes passed before his nerves got the better of him.Another five, and he stood up, starting to get worried. He went to her bedroom door, pausing on the other side of the wood before gently knocking.
“Gemma?”
The answer was an unmistakable sniffle.
“Gemma? Please say something, gorgeous.”
Nothing.
Rider moved for the knob, then stopped himself. Gemma isolated herself for a reason—he didn’t want to upset her any more than he already had. “Do you want me to go home?”
“No,” she sobbed.
“Did I say something that upset you?”
“No.”
“Can I come in?”
Silence. He gave her a few moments that felt like forever and just as he opened his mouth again, Gemma answered. “Okay.”
Rider cautiously twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Her room was spacious, with only a queen-sized bed, nightstand, and small dresser. She sat on the edge of the bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt. A pair of black shorts laid next to her. Red fear-filled eyes looked up at him. Rider’s gaze travelled south, and then he understood.
Her prosthesis sat to her side, both legs bare and exposed. He stepped into the room and knelt before her, cupping her face in his hands. He wasn’t sure what to say but hoped his touch would be a good start.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears crawling down her cheeks again.
“You have nothing to apologise for.”
Gemma closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Her cheeks felt hot and puffy on his skin, soaked from her tears.
“Do you usually get comfortable without your prosthesis at night?”
She nodded; still avoiding his gaze.
“But me being here threw a wrench in that, didn’t it?”
A soft sob of agreement.
“Because no one ever stayed long enough?”
Gemma nodded in his hands.
“I know this is a big step for you and if you’re not ready we don’t have to take it. I can stand up, give you a goodnight kiss, and walk out. Or I can stay, and we can cuddle wherever you want. Whatever you choose is good with me.”